Sweet Child o' Mine
by Red Lioness
Summary: Toki's fathered a child - no surprise there - but what they find out about the child is shocking.  This was just a stupid idea for a drabble.  I have no idea if I'll continue it.
1. Chapter 1

"What's that, Conway?" Charles Offdensen asked his personal assistant.

"It's the results for the paternity test on that sick baby, sir," the blond said, opening an envelope.

"Oh, right. So, uh . . . is it Toki's?" the CFO asked.

Some puff piece had hit the tabloid news agencies about a newborn with a serious liver defect. Somewhere along the line the journalist – stretching the term to its breaking point – had learned that the child was allegedly Toki Wartooth's son and proceeded to trumpet this bit of info to the world while the poor mother had hung on her shoulder, crying 'You can't say that! I signed the paper! I'll get in trouble!' in Swedish.

Luckily for the mother, Toki had seen the news piece before Charles had. Being of soft heart, the Norwegian guitarist had wanted to know if the baby was really his.

"Did they ever find a donor liver for . . . him? It was a boy, right?" the manager asked as Conway pulled the papers from the envelope.

"No, apparently they haven't found anyone who's a match," Matthias Conway said, scanning the documents.

The blond's eyes widened. His jaw hung slack for a moment, then he bit his lower lip.

"Oh my God," he muttered, a grin creeping across his face. "Oh my God!"

The slight man burst out laughing, turning away from his boss slightly as he guffawed.

"What's so . . . ah . . . funny?" Charles asked.

"Oh shit, that's hysterical," Conway wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. "I mean, what are the odds . . . well, I guess if you think about the numbers it's not that far out."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, the fans are a community . . . ."

"Conway!" Offdensen snapped.

"Ah, yes! Well, sir, Vandir Kron is the son of Toki Wartooth," Conway reported.

"What's so funny about that?" Charles asked.

"Vandir Kron is also the _grandson_ of Skwisgaar Skwigelf."

" . . . . _WHAT?_"

"Oh shit, that's funny," Matthias repeated, looking through the other documents. "Apparently Ms. Kron is one of Skwisgaar's illegimate daughters. I wonder if she knows—"

"Skwisgaar's only thirty-four! How can he have a grandchild?"

"Well, Ms. Kron is only eighteen . . ."

"He would have had conceived her when he was only fifteen! That's not – well, we are talking about Skwisgaar," Charles conceded.

"Are you going to tell them?" Conway asked.

"Well, Toki will want to know. Skwisgaar definitely won't. It will tear him apart to learn he's a grandfather. So yes, definitely."

* * *

><p>"Charles! You hears backs yet? Ams littles Vandir my boy?" Toki asked eagerly.<p>

The CFO paused, looking around Toki to where the rest of the band lounged around their main recreation room.

"Ah . . . yes. Congratulations, Toki; you're a father," Charles announced.

He waited until Toki's squealing and cheering had died down a bit, then cleared his throat again.

"And congratulations, Skwisgaar," the manager added.

The lead guitarist gave Charles a puzzled look.

"Why de fucks you giveses to me de congraslulations?" the Swede snarled. "I nots no fathers of de baby."

The corner of Charles' mouth turned up for a second.

"Ah, no, that's true. Skwisgaar, little Vandir is your grandson."

Skwisgaar stared at his manager for a second longer, then fired a sentence at Toki in his native language. Charles only knew a tiny bit of Swedish, but he was pretty sure it meant 'Did he just say 'grandson'?'

"How the fuck does that work?" Nathan growled, looking up from his newspaper. "Skwisgaar's way too young to be a grampa."

"Well, apparently he conceived a child when he was around fifteen. That child – a daughter – grew up and . . . uh . . . got accepted by the . . . ah . . . the Skank Patrol and . . . was impregnated by Toki."

"I'msa daddy!" the rhythm guitarist cried in delight.

"_Whats ain'ts no daughters mine grows ups fucking slut!_" Skwisgaar roared.

"Hey, you nots talks abouts Skal dats way!" Toki yelled back. "She can't helps beings a slut; she takes after hers dad!"

Skwisgaar heaved his Explorer at Toki's head. Toki yelled something back in either Swedish or Norwegian and the pair went on full attack. Charles retreated to a safe distance as they brawled.

"Issat really true?" Nathan asked. "One of Skwisgaar's kids grew up and fucked Toki and had his kid?"

"It's really true," Charles confirmed. "The lab ran the test three times to be sure. The question is: where do we go from here?"

"You know . . . you know what we should _do?_" Pickles slurred. "We should like, find some more of Skwisgaar's girls an – an see if like . . . Yngwie Malmsteen or . . . or . . . Paul Gilbert or somebody would be interested in knocking them up."

"You want to start _breeding_ guitarists?" Nathan asked.

"I wish I could say that's the worst idea of I've heard," Charles sighed.

Toki was now pinning Skwisgaar to the floor, popping him on the back of the head, and taunting him in their native tongues. Charles was officially lost, but he caught one word: '_morfar'_ which was repeated often and with great relish. The manager was pretty sure it meant 'grandpa.'

"It's a good idea!" Nathan protested. "I mean, fuck, Toki's little shitter's got the genes of the best guitarists in the world. He should have more kids with Skwisgaar's slutty daughter."


	2. Chapter 2

Skal Kron paced back and forth in the waiting room. She was allowed to be in the room while Vandir got his treatment, but she couldn't stand to hear her baby scream while they threaded the needle into his tiny veins. If only she were a match for her son; she would have gladly carved out her own liver to give to him so she wouldn't have to hear him cry like that anymore. Skal sighed and paced out into the hallway.

Four massive men were coming down the hallway, black hoods obscuring their faces.

"It was not me!" Skal protested in lightly accented English. "It was the reporter! I said nothing!"

The living wall of Gears parted slightly, revealing none other than Toki Wartooth. Dethklok's rhythm guitarist was holding a large teddy bear and wearing a huge smile.

"Hi! Skal, right? I saw the story about Vandir on the news so I had my manager run a paternity test. He really is mine! So I came to see him and you and I have a son!"

Toki spoke in Norwegian, which was close enough to Swedish for Skal to understand. To her it sounded as if he were speaking in an odd dialect. Wait . . . Toki was here? Toki was here to be a father?

Charles frowned as he watched the teddy bear fall from Miss Kron's hands. She grabbed the front of Toki's shirt and launched into rapid-fire Swedish. The manager's sparse grip of the language failed him as Skal fought back tears, distorting her words even more.

"What . . . ah . . . what is she saying?"

Skwisgaar watched the pair from Charles' side, the color slowly draining from his face.

"She . . . she asks Toki gets . . . ah . . . de tests to sees if he ams de doer."

" . . . Doer?"

"De doer. Doeser? Fucks . . . if he can gives his guts to de baby!" Skwisgaar snapped.

"Oh, donor. Are . . . ah . . .are you all right?"

"I remembers hers," the lanky Swede said, starting to turn green. "I thoughts she was too prettys for Toki, so I tolds de Gears to pull her for my skanks for de night. Toki tooked hers backs before de got deres."

"Ah . . . . oh."

"_Ja, _I goes to t'rows up now," Skwisgaar rasped.

The world's fastest guitarist rushed through a nearby doorway. The manager could clearly hear Skwisgaar retching.

"Go hold his hair back," Charles said, nodding to nearby Gear. The Klokateer saluted and followed Skwisgaar.

Miss Kron had deteriorated from tearful pleading to wet, snotty bawling. Toki looked a bit shocked at all this, but patted her and murmured soothing nonsense in his native language. Skal finally collapsed, sobbing, against his chest. Toki hugged her gently, as if he were unsure of the mechanics. The rhythm guitarist caught Charles' eye and made that sideways nod that meant 'come here.'

"Yes, Toki?" Charles prompted on approach.

"Calls de doctors so I can haves de tests to see if whats Is um . . . . can gets piece of my livers for Vandir."

Toki seemed to be stumbling over his English more than usual.

"Ah, are you sure that's such a good idea, Toki?" Charles asked. "I . . . I mean—"

"Just gets de doctor!" Toki snapped. "Is my livers, I can gives to who's I wants!"

"Ah . . . well, okay then."

Charles went away and rounded up the necessary doctors. They took Toki back for blood tests. Charles made sure to have the young Norwegian's medical records faxed from Mordhaus and kept a close eye on the situation.

Which left Skal and Skwisgaar alone in the waiting room.

Skwisgaar shifted uneasily. He was safe from getting sued for child support thanks to the paternity waivers, but what about this baby? He wasn't legally protected from being someone's grandfather, was he? Was there such a thing as grandchild support? What was this . . . Skal . . . _his daughter_ going to do now that she had him alone? Curse him for abandoning her? Demand that _he_ get tested for liver donation? She couldn't make him do that!

Skal, ignorant of the inner turmoil happening a few yards away from her, pulled out her cell phone.

"Mama! Mama, guess what happened?" She squealed into the device.

Skwisgaar clutched the arms of the chair. Even worse; she was calling her mother. In his experience, there were never more angry women in the world than ones that had borne your child.

"Toki came! He saw the TV spot and he came to help! He's getting tested right now! Yeah, I know! I know! Vandir's still in the room. I know! What does Skwisgaar Skwigelf have to do with anything?"

Skwisgaar squirmed.

"He is here, actually. Just sitting in the waiting room. Well, I don't know; I suppose he came to be with Toki."

"Don't say it like that!" Skwisgaar snapped in Swedish. "It sounds like we're a gay couple!"

"I just thought . . . you were friends," Skal protested.

"No! We aren't friends! That . . . that little idiot . . . just . . . a grandbaby . . . uh . . . tell your Mom I said hi," Skwisgaar growled, slumping back in his seat.

"Mama? Skwisgaar Skwigelf says 'Hi'," Skal reported. A moment later, she jerked the phone away from her ear as a stream of profanity spilled out of the speaker.

"Mama! Why so vicious? He is just waiting for his _friend_ who came to help Vandir!"

Skwisgaar turned a disbelieving eye to Skal. She didn't know why her mother would be so angry? Women usually hated him for - She didn't know. Her mother never told her who her father was. That meant . . . if the Gears _had_ pulled her from Toki's line—

Skwisgaar scrabbled for the trash can and threw up what little was left in his stomach. From now on, he would only sleep with women with _zero_ Scandinavian blood, just to be on the safe side!

"Are you okay? He's being sick in a trash can," Skal reported, still on the phone. "Do you want me to get a nurse?"

Skal leaned over him, putting one hand on his shoulder. From that distance, Skwisgaar could clearly hear her mother yell: 'Don't help that worthless piece of shit! He never lifted a finger to help either of us!'

"Mama! What's gotten into you? Do you want a cup of water?"

"Yes, please," Skwisgaar groaned, still hunched over his litter bin. There was something you were supposed to say to daughters when they did something nice for you, wasn't there? Oh yeah. "You're a good girl."

Skal gave him an odd look, but crossed to the water cooler and filled a paper cup. Half-way back, she stopped, the phone still clapped to her ear.

"What? . . . . . . No, he's not. . . . . .No, that can't be true."

Shit; here it came. That water was going to end up on his face. Skwisgaar got up and took the paper cup out of Skal's unresisting hand before that could happen.

"That's . . . no. What about Papa?"

Papa? Oh, so she had someone to play dad. Skwisgaar took a drink of water, still watching her face. Emotions flickered across her features; shock, distress, realization, more distress . . . really quite a lot of distress.

"And you didn't think to fucking warn me before I went to that concert?" Skal suddenly yelled. "I went to get in Skwisgaar's line! But they told me he was full up for the night! I could have . . .I could've . . . .oh god . . ."

Skwisgaar kicked the trashcan in her direction. Skal grabbed it as her lunch came back up full-force.

"Is . . . is everything all right out here?" A nurse asked.

"Eh," Skwisgaar said, waggling his hand.


End file.
